The Hate of Dolores Umbridge
by Salivour
Summary: "Cast a spell," Dolores orders her squib brother. She hates him.


"There," said Dolores, shoving her wand into her squib brother's hand. "Cast a spell."

But her brother Dennis just looked stupidly at the stick. "I- I can't, Dolores, you know I can't," he said meekly. He could never stand up straight; his long limbs folded over his body and his slobbish habits showed clearly in his shirt and hands.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Dolores said impatient, "go on, say it!"

But Dennis just hugged his arms around his body even more, holding the wand as though it might bite him. He flinched when Dolores took a step towards him. The wand shook in his hand as he said, "Wingardi-di-di-um Levi-o-o-osa."

Dolores rolled her eyes, took a calm breath and said in a stern voice, "Do it again. Properly this time. It's Wingardium Leviosa." She stared at her fool of a brother with stern eyes, disgusted by his entire appearance.

He knew Dolores well enough not to refuse. "Wingoordium Leviosa," he said, forcing the words out as quickly as he could.

"No," Dolores said through gritted teeth, "Wingardium Leviosa. Again."

"Wingardium Leviosa?" said Dennis. At least this time, her stupid brother managed to pronounce a simple spell correctly. But, as always, nothing happened. Not even a speck of dust rose, and there was plenty of dust, their lazy mother could never be bothered to clean. Dolores snatched her wand from her brother, holding it gingerly while his filth was on it.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she said and instantly, Dennis pulled from the ground with an embarrassing squeak and hung upside down in the air. "There. It's a simple spell, eleven year olds do this, you stupid boy. Why do you have to be so stupid? You can never do anything right!"

Dennis let out a great sniff, his nose beginning to flow. "I'm sorry," he said, voice hitching, "I just can't. I wish I co-could, but- but-" Now the tears were flowing freely, his speech barely comprehensible through his sniffs and stuttering breaths.

Dolores let Dennis drop to the ground with a crash. He howled in pain as his ankle twisted underneath him. "I hate you," said Dolores, "I hate that you exist, I hate that you're useless, I hate that - that bitch who made you like this."

At this, Dennis seemed to gather some courage. "Mum, you mean," he said in a loud voice, "don't you call her names!"

"And what are you going to do about it?" said Dolores menacingly, pointing her wand at him. Dennis's courage failed him, and he again wrapped his arms around him.

"Is everything alright?"

Dolores looked up to see their Muggle mother standing there, with her hands clasped together, shoulders hunched and wearing her fat-roll dress as Dolores called it. Dolores smiled politely at her, "Dennis just tripped over. Would you mind terribly fetching some ice from him?"

Their mother's eyes slowly slid from Dolores to Dennis and back again, lingering on the wand in Dolore's hand. "Sure," she said after a long pause. Dolores barely resisted rolling her eyes; she was surrounded by idiots.

As soon as their mother had left she dropped her polite smile, mouth twisting into a snarl as she rounded on Dennis and kicked him viciously in the side. "You deserve that," she said, "and don't you dare tell her."

Dennis kept silent, eyes trained on the floor until their mother returned. "Here you go," she said.

"Thanks," said Dennis quietly. He glanced at Dolores and said in a small voice, "She attacked me."

Again, their mother's eyes looked at the wand in Dolores's hand. "Is that what happened?" she asked.

Dolores smiled politely, but not too wide, she didn't want to appear unsympathetic to Dennis. "No," she said in a polite voice usually reserved to speaking to two year olds, "I was demonstrating one of the spells I've learnt. Dennis unfortunately got a bit of a fright and stumbled."

Dennis frowned at his sister, hands bunched into fists. "That's not what happened," he said loudly. "She was forcing me to do that stuff she does!"

Their mother again rounded on Dolores, arms crossed. "Is that true, Dolores?" she asked.

"No," said Dolores, glaring at both of them. "I merely thought Dennis would like to hold my wand for a bit. I didn't realise he was uncomfortable. If I had, I would of course not continued." She gave her best simpering smile.

But her stupid brother wrenched his mouth open again. "She's lying!" he shouted.

"That's it!" shouted their mother, making both children flinch. Mother never shouted, never. "Dolores I am sick of your lies. Dennis - get your things. I should have done this as soon as I realised what your father was. Now, Dennis. We're leaving."

Minutes later, the car pulled from the drive, a few hastily collected possessions in the back. Dolores stood on the front step to see them off. "I hate both of you," she shouted. "I hope I never see you again! I'll hex you if you ever come near me again - I'm not related to you stupid Muggles! I hate you! I hate you!"

* * *

Later that evening, her Father arrived back home. "Where's your mother and Dennis?" he asked.

Dolores ran into his arms and gave a sob. "They left," she said tearfully. "Mother said she wouldn't keep Dennis around me. Called me a" - here she paused slightly as though she couldn't continue - "a - a - freak!"

Father looked down at his daughter's red eyes with tears falling from them. "Oh honey," he said. "It's alright. How about we go out to that restaurant you like? You get dessert as a treat."

Dolores smiled up at her Father, "Thank you," she said. Maybe she'd get the attention she deserved now those two Muggles were gone. She should never have been related to them, she hated her useless Father as much as the other two, but at the very least he was a wizard. She would unfortunately be forced to put up with him for a while longer.

* * *

Written as part of the April Event: National Sibling Day


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